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♪ Let not my love be called idolatry ♪

♪ Since all alike my songs and praises be ♪

♪ Kind is my love today

♪ Tomorrow kind, still constant in a wondrous excellence ♪

♪ Therefore my verse to constancy confined ♪

♪ One thing expressing leaves out difference ♪

♪ So true a fool is love

♪ So true a fool is love

♪ So true a fool is love

♪ So true a fool is love

♪ A fool is love

♪ A fool is love

♪ A fool is love

♪ A fool is love

♪ So true a fool is love

♪ So true a fool is love

♪ So true a fool is love

♪ So true a fool is love

♪ Being your slave, what should I do ♪

♪ but tend upon the hours and times of your desire? ♪

♪ I have no precious time at all to spend ♪

♪ nor services to do 'til you require ♪

♪ Nor dare I chide the world without end hour ♪

♪ Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you ♪

♪ Nor think the bitterness of absence sour ♪

♪ when you have bid your servant once adieu ♪

♪ Nor dare I question with my jealous thought ♪

♪ where you may be or your affairs suppose ♪

♪ But like a sad slave, stay and think of nought ♪

♪ Save, where you are how happy you make those ♪

♪ So true a fool is love, yeah

♪ So true a fool is love, yeah

♪ So true a fool is love, yeah

♪ So true a fool is love

♪ A fool is love

♪ A fool is love

♪ A fool is love

♪ A fool is love ♪

Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus.

Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.

I rather would entreat thy company

to see the wonders of the world abroad.

But since thou lovest, love still and thrive therein,

even as I would when I to love begin.

Wilt thou be gone?

Sweet Valentine, adieu!

Think on thy Proteus, when thou haply seest

some rare noteworthy object in thy travel.

Wish me partaker in thy happiness.

And on a love book pray for my success?

Upon some book I love I'll pray for thee.

Love is your master, for he masters you.

But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee

that art a votary to fond desire?

Once more adieu!

My father at the road expects my coming,

there to see me shipped.

And thither will I bring thee, Valentine.

Sweet Proteus, no.

Now let us take our leave.

To Milan, let me hear from thee by letters of thy success

in love, and what news else betideth here

in absence of thy friend.

And I likewise will visit thee with mine.

All happiness bechance to thee in Milan!

As much to you at home!

And so, farewell.

He after honor hunts; I after love.

He leaves his friends to dignify them more;

I leave myself, my friends, and all for love.

Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphosed me.

Made me neglect my studies, lose my time,

war with good counsel, set the world at nought.

Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with thought.

But say, Lucetta, now we are alone,

what thinkest thou of the gentle Proteus?

Lord, Lord, to see what folly reigns in us.

How now!

What means this passion at his name?

Oh pardon, dear madam.

'Tis a passing shame that I, unworthy body that I am,

should censure thus on lovely gentlemen.

Why not on Proteus, as on all the rest?

Then thus, of many good I think him best.

Your reason?

I have no other but a woman's reason.

I think him so because I think him so.

Why he, of all the rest, hath never moved me.

Yet he, of all the rest, I think,

best loves ye.

I would I knew his mind.

Peruse this paper, madam.

"To Julia."

Say, from whom?

That the contents will show.

There, take the paper.

See it be returned or else return no more into my sight.

To plead for love deserves more fee than hate.

Will ye be gone?

That ye may ruminate.

And yet I would I had o'erlooked the letter.

It were a shame to call her back again and pray her to a fault

for which I chid her.

Fie, fie, how wayward is this foolish love that,

like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse and presently

all humbled kiss the rod.

What ho, Lucetta!

What would your ladyship?

What is that you took up so gingerly?

Nothing.

And is that paper nothing?

Nothing concerning me.

Then let it lie for those that it concerns.

Let's see your song.

And yet I think I do not like this tune.

You do not?

No, madam, 'tis too sharp.

This babble shall not henceforth trouble me.

Here is a coil with protestation.

Go, get you gone, and let the papers lie.

You would be fingering them to anger me.

Look, here is writ, "Kind Julia."

Unkind Julia.

As in revenge of thy ingratitude,

I throw thy name against the bruising stones,

trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.

And here is writ "Love-wounded Proteus."

Poor wounded name!

My bosom as a bed shall lodge thee till thy wound

be thoroughly healed, and thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.

Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ,

"Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,

to the sweet Julia."

That I'll tear away.

And yet I will not, sith so prettily he couples it

to his complaining names.

Thus will I fold them one upon another.

Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.

O that our fathers would applaud our loves,

to seal our happiness with their consents.

O heavenly Julia!

Madam, dinner is ready, and your father stays.

Sweet love, sweet lines, sweet life.

O heavenly Julia.

How now!

What letter are you reading there?

May it please your lordship,

'tis a word or two of commendations

sent from Valentine, delivered by a friend

that came from him.

Lend me the letter, let me see what news.

There is no news, my lord,

but that he writes wishing me with him,

partner of his fortune.

And how stand you affected to his wish?

As one relying on your lordship's will

and not depending on his friendly wish.

My will is something sorted to his wish.

I am resolved that thou shalt spend some time

with Valentinus in the emperor's court.

Tomorrow make your readiness to go.

Excuse it not, for I am peremptory.

My lord, I cannot be so soon provided.

Please you, deliberate a day or two.

Look, what thou wantest

shall be sent after thee.

No more of stay!

Tomorrow thou must go.

Silvia.

Silvia.

Madam Silvia! Madam Silvia!

She is not within hearing, sir.

Tell me, do you know Madam Silvia?

She that your worship loves?

Why, how know you that I am in love?

Marry, by these special marks.

First, you have learned to relish a love-song

like a robin redbreast, to walk alone

like one that had the pestilence,

to sigh like a schoolboy that had lost his ABC,

to weep like the young wench that had buried her grandam.

You are metamorphosed with a mistress.

Last night she enjoined me

to write some lines to one that she loves.

And have you?

I have.

Are they not lamely writ?

No, but as well as I can do them.

Peace, here she comes.

Madam and mistress,

a thousand good morrows.

Sir Valentine and servant,

to you two thousand.

As you enjoined, I have writ your letter

unto the secret nameless friend of yours,

which I was much unwilling to proceed in

but for my duty to your ladyship.

I thank you gentle servant.

'Tis very clerkly done.

Now believe me, madam, it came hardly off.

For being ignorant to whom it goes,

I writ at random, very doubtfully.

Perchance you think too much of so much pains?

What means your ladyship?

Do you not like it?

Oh, yes, yes.

The lines are very quaintly writ,

but since unwillingly, take them again.

Nay, take them.

Madam, they are for you.

Ay, ay, you writ them, sir, at my request,

but I will none of them.

They are for you.

I would have had them writ more movingly.

Please you,

I'll write your ladyship another.

And when it's writ, for my sake read it over.

And if it please you so.

If not, why so?

If it please me, madam, what then?

Why, then if it please you,

take it for your labor.

And so, good morrow, servant.

Do you not perceive the jest?

No, believe me.

No believing you, indeed, sir.

But did you perceive her earnest?

She gave me none, except an angry word.

Why, she hath given you a letter.

That's the letter I writ to her friend.

And that letter hath she delivered,

and there an end.

Oh.

Have patience, gentle Julia.

I must, where is no remedy.

When possibly I can, I will return.

If you turn not, you will return the sooner.

Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake.

Why then, we'll make exchange.

And seal the bargain with a holy kiss.

My father stays my coming, answer not.

The tide is now.

Nay, not thy tide of tears.

That tide will stay me longer than I should.

Julia, farewell!

I think Crab, my dog,

be the sourest natured dog that lives.

My mother weeping, my father wailing,

my sister crying, our maid howling,

our cat wringing her hands, and all the while

did not this cruel-hearted cur shed one tear.

He is a stone, a very pebble stone,

and has no more pity in him than a dog.

Why, my grandam, having no eyes, look you,

wept herself blind at my parting.

Nay, I'll show you the manner of it.

This shoe is my father.

No, this left shoe is my father.

No, no, this left shoe is my mother.

Nay, that cannot be so neither.

Yes, it is so.

It is so, it hath the worser sole.

This shoe, with the hole in it is my mother,

and this my father.

A vengeance on it, there it is.

Now, I am the dog.

No, the dog is himself, and I am the dog.

Oh, the dog is me, and I am myself.

Ay, so, so.

Now I come to my father.

Father, your blessing.

Now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping.

Now should I kiss my father.

Well, he weeps on.

Now come I to my mother.

Well, I kiss her.

Why, there it is.

Oh, here's my mother's breath up and down.

Now the dog all this while sheds not a tear nor speaks a word.

But see how I lay the ground with my tears.

Servant!

Mistress?

Sir Thurio frowns on you.

Ay, it is for love.

Not of you.

Of my mistress, then.

'Twere good you knocked him.

Servant, you are sad.

Indeed, madam, I seem so.

Seem you that you are not?

Haply I do.

So do counterfeits.

So do you.

What seem I that I am not?

Wise.

What instance of the contrary?

Your folly.

How?

A fine volley of words, gentlemen,

and quickly shot off.

'Tis indeed, madam.

We thank the giver.

Who is that, servant?

Why, yourself, sweet lady,

for you gave the fire.

Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship's looks

and spends what he borrows kindly in your company.

Sir, if you spend word for word with me,

I'll make your wit bankrupt.

I know it well, sir.

You have an exchequer of words, and I think no other treasure

to give your followers.

No more, gentlemen, no more.

Here comes my father.

Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset.

Sir Valentine, your father is in good health.

What say you to a letter from your friends of much good news?

My lord, I would be thankful

to any happy messenger from thence.

Know ye Don Antonio, your countryman?

Hath he not a son?

Ay, my good lord, a son that well deserves

the honor and regard of such a father.

You know him well?

I knew him as myself, for from our infancy

we conversed and spent our hours together.

Yet hath Sir Proteus, for that's his name,

made use and fair advantage of his days.

He is complete in feature and in mind,

with all good grace to grace a gentleman.

Well, sir, this gentleman has come to me

with commendation from great potentates,

and here he means to spend his time awhile.

I think that is no unwelcome news to you.

Should I have wished a thing, it had been he.

I will send him hither to you presently.

This is the gentleman

I told your ladyship had come along with me,

but that his mistress did hold his eyes

locked in her crystal looks.

How could he see his way to seek out you?

Why, lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes.

Welcome, dear Proteus!

Madam, I beseech you, confirm his welcome

with some special favor.

Servant, you are welcome to a worthless mistress.

I'll die on him that says so but yourself.

That you are welcome?

That you are worthless.

Madam, my lord your father would speak with you.

I wait upon his pleasure.

Go with me, Sir Thurio.

We'll both attend upon your ladyship.

Now, tell me, how do all from whence you came?

Your friends are well and have them much commended.

And how do yours?

I left them all in health.

And how does your lady and how thrives your love?

My tales of love were wont to weary you.

Ay, Proteus, but that life is altered now.

O gentle Proteus, love's a mighty lord

and hath so humbled me,

as I confess there is no want to his correction,

nor to his service no such joy on earth.

Enough, I read your fortune in your eye.

Was this the idol that you worship so?

Even she, and is she not a heavenly saint?

No, but she is an earthly paragon.

Call her divine.

I will not flatter her.

Then speak the truth by her.

If not divine, yet let her be a principality,

sovereign to all the creatures on the earth.

Except my mistress.

Pardon me, Proteus.

All I can is nothing to her who makes other worthies nothing.

She is alone.

Then let her alone.

Not for the world.

Even as one heat another heat expels,

or as one nail by strength drives out another,

so the remembrance of my former love

is by a newer object quite forgotten.

Is it my mind or Valentine's praise,

her true perfection or my false transgression

that makes me reasonless to reason thus?

She is fair and so is Julia that I love.

That I did love, for now my love is thawed.

Methinks my zeal to Valentine is cold and that I love him

not as I was wont.

O but I love his lady too, too much,

and that's the reason I love him so little.

'Tis but her picture I have yet beheld

and that hath dazzled my reason's light.

But when I look on her perfections,

there is no reason, but I shall be blind.

If I can check my erring love, I will.

If not, to compass her I'll use my skill.

What, angry, Sir Thurio?

Do you change color?

Give him leave, madam.

He is a kind of chameleon.

That hath more mind to suck on your blood

than live in your air.

You have said, sir.

Aye, sir, and done too, for this time.

I know it well, sir.

You always end ere you begin.

How shall I dote on her with more advice,

that thus without advice begin to love her?

At first I did adore a twinkling star,

but now I worship a celestial sun.

To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn.

To love fair Silvia, shall I be forsworn.

To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn.

Even that power which gave me first my oath

provokes me to this threefold perjury.

Love bade me swear and love bids me forswear.

O sweet suggesting Love, if thou hast sinned, teach me,

thy tempted subject, to excuse it!

I cannot leave to love, but yet I do.

But there I leave to love where I should love.

I will forget that Julia is alive,

remembering that my love to her is dead.

And Valentine I'll hold an enemy,

aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend.

I cannot now prove constant to myself

without some treachery used to Valentine.

Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift,

as thou hast lent me wit.

Better forbear till Proteus make return.

O knowest thou not his looks are my soul's food?

If thou didst know the inly touch of love,

thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow

as seek to quench the fire of love with words.

I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire,

but qualify the fire's extreme rage,

lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.

The more thou dammest it up,

the more it burns.

Then let me go and hinder not my course.

In what habit will you go along?

Not like a woman.

Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weeds

as may beseem some well-reputed page.

Why, then, your ladyship must cut your hair.

No, girl, I'll knit it up with silken strings

and twenty odd-conceited true love knots.

What fashion shall I make your breeches, madam?

Lucetta, as thou lovest me, let me have

what thou thinkest meet and is most mannerly.

We have some secrets to confer.

Now, tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me?

My gracious lord, that which it would discover

the law of friendship bids me to conceal,

but when I call to mind your gracious favors done to me,

undeserving as I am, my duty pricks me on to utter

that which else no worldly good should draw from me.

Know, worthy prince, Sir Valentine, my friend,

this night intends to steal away your daughter.

Myself am one made privy to the plot.

Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care,

which to requite, command me while I live.

Upon mine honor, he shall never know that I had

any light from thee of this.

Adieu, my Lord.

Sir Valentine, whither away so fast?

Please it your grace, there is a messenger

that stays to bear my letters to my friends,

and I am going to deliver them.

Be they of much import?

The tenor of them doth

but signify my health and happy being at your court.

Nay then, no matter.

Stay with me awhile.

I am to break with thee of some affairs that touch me near,

wherein thou must be secret.

'Tis not unknown to you that I have sought to match my friend

Sir Thurio with my daughter.

I know it well, my Lord,

and sure the match were rich and honorable.

Can your Grace not win her to fancy him?

No, trust me.

She is peevish, sullen, froward,

proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty,

neither regarding that she is my child

nor fearing me as if I were her father.

What would your Grace have me to do in this?

What letter is this same?

What's here?

"To Silvia."

I think I'll be so forward as to break the seal for once.

"My thoughts do harbor with my Silvia nightly,

and slaves they are to me that send them flying.

O could their master come and go as lightly,

himself would lodge where senseless they are lying.

I curse myself, for they are sent by me,

that they would harbor where their lord should be."

What's here?

"Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee."

Wilt thou reach stars because they shine on thee?

Go, as thou lovest thy life, make speed from hence.

Valentine?

No.

Who then, his spirit?

Neither.

What then?

Nothing.

Thank me for this and for all the favors

which all too much I have bestowed on thee.

And you, may I say to thee, this pride of hers,

under advice, hath drawn my love from her.

By heaven!

My wrath shall far exceed the love I ever bore

my daughter or thyself.

Cease to lament for that thou canst not help,

and study help for that which thou lamentest.

Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.

Hope is a lover's staff, walk hence with that

and manage it against despairing thoughts.

Then let her beauty be her wedding-dower,

for me and my possessions she esteems not.

The time now serves not to expostulate.

What light is light if Silvia be not seen?

What joy is joy if Silvia be not by?

Except I be by Silvia in the night,

there is no music in the nightingale.

Unless I look on Silvia in the day,

there is no day for me to look upon.

Friend Valentine, a word.

What is your news?

That thou art banished.

O that's the news!

From hence, from Silvia and from me thy friend.

O I have fed upon this woe already.

Doth Silvia know that I am banished?

Ay, ay, but neither bended knees,

pure hands held up, sad sighs, deep groans,

nor silver-shedding tears could penetrate

her uncompassionate sire.

No more.

Come, I'll convey thee through the city gate.

And ere I part with thee, confer at large of all

that may concern thy love affairs.

As thou lovest Silvia, though not for thyself,

regard thy danger, and along with me.

He lives not now that knows me to be in love.

Yet I am in love, but a team of horse

shall not pluck that from me, nor who it 'tis I love.

And yet 'tis a woman.

Here is a catalog of her condition.

Ahem!

How now, Signior Launce.

What news with your mastership?

With my master's ship?

Why, it is at sea.

Well, your old vice still, mistake the word.

What news, then, in your paper?

Why, the blackest news that ever thou heardest.

Why, man, how black?

Why, as black as ink.

Let me read them.

There, Saint Nicholas be thy speed!

"Item: She can sew."

That's as much to say, can she so?

"Item: She can wash and scour."

A special virtue, for then she need

not be washed and scoured.

"Item: She hath many nameless virtues."

That's as much as to say, bastard virtues,

that indeed know not their fathers

and therefore have no names.

"Here follow her vices."

Close at the heels of her virtues.

"Item: She hath a sweet mouth."

Well, that fault may be mended.

Read on.

"Item: She doth talk in her sleep."

It's no matter for that,

so she sleep not in her talk.

"Item: She is slow in words."

O villain, that set this down among her vices.

To be slow in words is a woman's only virtue.

"Item: She is proud."

Out with that too.

It was Eve's legacy, and cannot be taken from her.

"Item: She is curst."

Good things should be praised.

"Item: She is too liberal."

That I cannot help, proceed.

"Item: She hath more hairs than wit,

and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults."

Stop there.

Sir Thurio, fear not but that she will love you,

now Valentine is banished from her sight.

Since his exile she hath despised me most,

forsworn my company and railed at me

that I am desperate of obtaining her.

A little time will melt her frozen thoughts,

and worthless Valentine will be forgot.

How now, Sir Proteus.

Is your countryman according to our proclamation gone?

Gone, my good lord.

My daughter takes his going grievously.

A little time, my lord, will kill that grief.

Thou knowest how willingly I would effect

the match between Sir Thurio and my daughter.

I do, my lord.

And also, I think, thou art not ignorant

how she opposes her against my will.

She did, my lord, when Valentine was here.

Ay, and perversely she persevers so.

What might we do to make the girl forget

the love of Valentine and love Sir Thurio?

The best way is to slander Valentine.

Ay, but she'll think that it is spoke in hate.

Ay, if his enemy deliver it.

Therefore it must with circumstance be spoken

by one whom she esteemeth as his friend.

Then you must undertake to slander him.

'Tis an ill office for a gentleman,

especially against his very friend.

Where your good word cannot advantage him,

your slander never can endamage him.

Therefore the office is indifferent,

being entreated to it by your friend.

You have prevailed, my lord.

If I can do it by ought that I can speak in his dispraise,

she shall not long continue love to him.

But say this weed her love from Valentine,

it follows not that she will love Sir Thurio.

Therefore, as you unwind her love from him,

lest it should ravel and be good to none,

you must provide to bottom it on me,

which must be done by praising me as much

as you in worth dispraise Sir Valentine.

And Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind.

Upon this warrant shall you have access where you with Silvia

may confer at large, where you may temper her

by your persuasion to hate young Valentine

and love my friend.

As much as I can do, I will effect.

Even now about it.

Already have I been false to Valentine,

and now I must be as unjust to Thurio.

Under the color of commending him,

I have access my own love to prefer.

How now, Sir Proteus, are you crept before us?

Ay, gentle Thurio, for you know that love

will creep in service where it cannot go.

Ay, but I hope, sir, that you love not here.

Sir, but I do, or else I would be hence.

Who? Silvia?

Ay, Silvia, for your sake.

I thank you for your own.

But now, gentlemen, let us tune,

and to it lustily awhile.

Now, my young guest, methinks you're allycholly.

I pray you, why is it?

Marry, mine host, because I cannot be merry.

♪ Who's Silvia?

♪ What is she that all our swains commend her? ♪

♪ Holy, fair and wise is she

♪ The heaven such grace did lend her ♪

♪ that she might admired be

How now are you sadder than you were before?

How do you, man?

The music likes you not.

You mistake, the musician likes me not.

Why, my pretty youth?

He plays false, father.

♪ For beauty lives with kindness ♪

♪ Love doth to her eyes repair

♪ to help him of his blindness ♪

♪ and, being helped, inhabits there ♪

I perceive you delight not in music.

Not a whit, when it jars so.

Hark, what fine change is in the music.

Ay, and that change is the spite.

You would have them always play but one thing?

I would always have one play but one thing.

♪ Then to Silvia let us sing ♪

♪ that Silvia is excelling

♪ She excels each mortal thing ♪

♪ upon the dull earth dwelling ♪

♪ To her let us garlands bring ♪

Sir Thurio, fear not you.

I will so plead that you shall say my cunning drift excels.

I thank you for your music, gentlemen.

Madam, good even to your ladyship.

Sir Proteus, as I take it.

Sir Proteus, gentle lady,

and your servant.

What's your will?

That I may encompass yours.

You have your wish.

My will is even this, that presently

you hie you home to bed.

Thou subtle, perjured, false, disloyal man!

Thinkest thou I am so shallow, so conceitless to be seduced

by thy flattery that hast deceived so many with thy vows?

Return, return, and make thy love amends.

For me, by this pale queen of night I swear,

I am so far from granting thy request that I despise thee

for thy wrongful suit and by and by

intend to chide myself even for this time

I spend in talking to thee.

I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady,

but she is dead.

Say that she be,

yet Valentine thy friend survives,

to whom thou witness I am betrothed.

And art thou not ashamed to wrong him

with thy importunacy?

I likewise hear that Valentine is dead.

And so suppose am I, for in his grave assure thyself

my love is buried.

Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth.

Go to thy lady's grave and call hers thence,

or at the least in hers sepulcher thine.

Madam, if your heart be so obdurate,

vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love.

To that I'll speak, to that I'll sigh and weep.

For since the substance of your perfect self is else devoted,

I am but a shadow,

and to your shadow will I make true love.

I am very loath to be your idol, sir.

But since your falsehood shall become you well

to worship shadows and adore false shapes,

send to me in the morning and I'll send it.

And so, good rest.

As wretches have o'ernight that wait

for execution in the morning.

My friends?

That's not so, sir.

We are your enemies.

Peace, we shall hear him.

Ay, by my beard, will we,

for he is a proper man.

Then know that I have little wealth to lose.

A man I am crossed with adversity.

My riches are these poor habiliments,

of which if you should here disfurnish me,

you take the sum and substance that I have.

Whither travel you?

To Verona.

Whence came you?

From Milan.

Have you long sojourned there?

Some several months, and longer might have stayed,

if crooked fortune had not thwarted me.

What, were you banished thence?

I was.

For what offence?

For that which now torments me to rehearse.

I killed a man, whose death I much repent.

But yet, I slew him manfully in fight,

without false vantage or base treachery.

But ne'er repent it,

if it were done so.

What were you banished for so such small a fault?

I was, and held me glad of such a doom.

This fellow were a king for our wild faction.

We'll have him.

Sirs, a word.

Answer us this, what have you to take to?

Nothing but my fortune.

Know, then, that some of us are gentlemen,

such as the fury of ungoverned youth did thrust

from the company of awful men.

Myself was from Verona banished for practicing

to steal away a lady.

And I from Mantua, for a gentleman,

who, in my mood, I stabbed unto the heart.

And I for such like petty crimes as these,

but to the purpose, for we cite our faults that they

may hold excused our lawless lives.

And partly, seeing that you are beautified with goodly shape

and by your own report a linguist and a man

of such perfection, as we do in our quality much want.

Indeed, because you are a banished man,

therefore, above the rest, we parley to you.

Would you be content to be our general?

To make a virtue of necessity and live, as we do,

in this wilderness?

What sayest thou?

Wilt thou be of our consort?

Say ay and be the captain of us all.

We'll do thee homage and be ruled by thee,

love thee as our commander and our king.

I take your offer and will live with you.

Sebastian is thy name?

I like thee well and will employ thee in some service presently.

In what you please, I'll do what I can.

I hope thou wilt.

Sebastian, I have entertained thee,

partly that I have need of such a youth

that can with some discretion do my business.

Therefore know thou, for this I entertain thee.

Go presently and take this ring with thee.

Deliver it to Madam Silvia.

She loved me well delivered it to me.

It seems you loved not her, to leave her token.

She is dead, belike?

Not so, I think she lives.

Alas.

Why dost thou cry, "Alas"?

I cannot choose but pity her.

Wherefore shouldst thou pity her?

Because methinks that she loved you

as well as you do love your lady Silvia.

She dreams on him that has forgot her love.

You dote on her that cares not for your love.

'Tis pity love should be so contrary

and thinking of it makes me cry, "Alas."

Well, give her that ring and tell my lady

I claim the promise for her heavenly picture.

Your message done, hie home unto my chamber,

where thou shalt find me sad and solitary.

How many women would do such a message?

Alas, poor Proteus!

Thou hast entertained a fox to be the shepherd of thy lambs.

Alas, poor fool!

Why do I pity him that with his very heart despiseth me?

Because he loves her, he despiseth me.

Because I love him I must pity him.

This ring I gave him when he parted from me

to bind him to remember my good will.

And now am I, unhappy messenger,

to plead for that which I would not obtain,

to carry that which I would have refused,

to praise his faith which I would have dispraised.

I am my master's true confirmed love.

But cannot be true servant to my master

unless I prove false traitor to myself.

Yet I will woo for him, but yet so coldly as heaven it knows

I would not have him speed.

Gentlewoman, good day.

I pray you, be my mean to bring me where to speak

with Madam Silvia.

What would you with her, if that I be she?

If you be she, I do entreat your patience

to hear me speak the message I am sent on.

From whom?

From my master, madam, Sir Proteus.

O he sends you for a picture.

Ay, madam.

There, give your master this.

Tell him from me, one Julia,

that his changing thoughts forget,

would better fit his chamber than this shadow.

Madam, he sends your ladyship this ring.

The more shame for him that he send it.

Though his false finger have profaned the ring,

mine shall not do his Julia so much wrong.

She thanks you for it.

What sayest thou?

I thank you for it, madam, that you tender her.

Poor gentlewoman, my master wrongs her much.

Dost thou know her?

Almost as well as I do know myself.

To think upon her woes I do protest that I have wept

a hundred several times.

Belike she thinks that Proteus hath forsook her.

I think she doth, and that is her cause of sorrow.

Is she not passing fair?

She hath been fairer, madam, than she is.

When she did think my master loved her well,

she, in my opinion, was as fair as you.

How tall is she?

About my stature.

She is beholding to thee, gentle youth.

Alas, poor lady, desolate and left.

I weep myself to think upon thy words.

Here, youth, there is my purse.

I give thee this for thy sweet mistress' sake,

because thou lovest her.

Farewell.

And she shall thank you for it if e'er you know her.

A virtuous gentlewoman, mild and beautiful.

I hope my master's suit will be but cold,

since she respects my mistress' love so much.

Alas, how love can trifle with itself.

Here is her picture, let me see.

I think, if I had such a tire, this face of mine were full

as lovely as is this of hers.

And yet the painter flattered her a little,

unless I flatter with myself too much.

Her hair is auburn, mine is perfect yellow.

If that be all the difference in his love,

I'll get me such a colored periwig.

Her eyes are gray as glass, and so are mine.

Ay, but her forehead's low, and mine's as high.

What should it be that he respects in her

but I can make respective in myself,

if this fond Love were not a blinded god?

I'll use thee kindly for thy mistress' sake, that used me so.

Or else, by Jove I vow, I should have scratched out

your unseeing eyes to make my master out of love with thee.

Sir Proteus, what says Silvia to my suit?

O sir, I find her milder than she was,

and yet she takes exceptions to your person.

What, that my leg is too long?

No, that it is too little.

How likes she my discourse?

Ill, when you talk of war.

But well, when I discourse of love and peace?

But better, indeed, when you hold your peace.

What says she to my valor?

O sir, she makes no doubt of that.

She needs not, when she knows it cowardice.

What says she to my birth?

That you are well derived.

True, from a gentleman to a fool.

Lady, a happy evening!

I fear I am attended by some spies.

Fear not, the forest is not three leagues off.

How now, Sir Proteus.

How now, Thurio.

Saw you my daughter?

Not I.

Nor I.

Well, then, she's fled unto that peasant Valentine.

Dispatch, sweet gentlemen.

Why, this it is to be a peevish girl

that flies her fortune when it follows her.

I'll after, more to be revenged on Valentine

than for the love of reckless Silvia.

And I will follow, more for Silvia's love

than hate of Valentine that stays with her.

And I will follow, more to cross that love

than hate for Silvia that is gone for love.

Come, I must bring you to my captain's cave.

Fear not, he bears an honorable mind

and will not use a woman lawlessly.

O Valentine, this I endure for thee!

How use doth breed a habit in a man.

This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods,

I better brook than flourishing peopled towns.

Here can I sit alone, unseen of any,

and to the nightingale's complaining notes

tune my distresses and record my woes.

Repair me with thy presence, Silvia.

O gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain.

What halloing and what stir is this today?

Madam, this service I have done for you,

though you respect not aught your servant doth

to hazard life and rescue you from him

that would have forced your honor and your love.

Vouchsafe me, for my meed, but one fair look.

A smaller boon than this I cannot beg and less than this,

I am sure, you cannot give.

O miserable, unhappy that I am!

Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came.

But by my coming I have made you happy.

By thy approach thou makest me most unhappy.

Had I been seized by a hungry lion,

I would have been a breakfast to the beast,

rather than have false Proteus rescue me.

O Heaven be judge how I love Valentine,

whose life's as tender to me as my soul.

And full as much, for more there cannot be,

I do detest false perjured Proteus.

Therefore be gone, solicit me no more.

What dangerous action, stood it next to death,

would I not undergo for one calm look.

O 'tis the curse in love, and still approved,

when women cannot love where they're beloved.

When Proteus cannot love where he's beloved.

Read over Julia's heart, thy first best love,

for whose dear sake thou didst then rend

thy faith into a thousand oaths.

And all those oaths descended into perjury to love me.

Thou hast no faith left now, unless thouedst two,

and that's far worse than none.

Better have none than plural faith which is too much by one.

Thou counterfeit to thy true friend.

In love who respects friend?

All men but Proteus.

Ruffian, let go that rude uncivil touch,

thou friend of an ill fashion.

Thou common friend, that's without faith or love.

Thou hast beguiled my hopes.

Now I dare not say I have one friend left alive.

Thou wouldst disprove me.

Who should be trusted when one's own right hand

is perjured to the bosom?

Proteus, I am sorry I must never trust thee more.

But count the world a stranger for thy sake.

The private wound is deepest.

O time most accurst, 'mongst all foes that a friend

should be the worst.

My shame and guilt confounds me.

Forgive me, Valentine.

If hearty sorrow be a sufficient ransom for offence,

I tender it here.

I do as truly suffer as e'er I did commit.

Then I am paid,

and once again I do receive thee honest.

O me unhappy.

Look to the boy.

Why, boy. Why, wag.

How now, what's the matter?

Look up, speak.

O good sir, my master has charged me to deliver a ring

to Madam Silvia, which, out of my neglect,

was never done.

Where is the ring, boy?

The ring, boy.

Here it 'tis, this is it.

How, let me see.

This is the ring I gave to Julia.

And Julia herself did give it me.

And Julia herself hath brought it hither.

How, Julia!

Behold her that gave aim to all thy oaths

and entertained them deeply in her heart.

It is the lesser blot, modesty finds,

women to change their shape than men their minds.

Than men their minds, 'tis true.

O Proteus, let this habit make thee blush.

Be thou ashamed that I have took upon me

such an immodest raiment,

if shame live where there is a disguise of love.

O heaven, were man but constant,

were perfect.

One error fills him with faults,

makes him run through all the sins.

Inconstancy falls off ere it begins.

What is in Silvia's face, but I may spy

more fresh in Julia's with a constant eye?

Come, come, let me be blessed

to make this happy close.

'Twere a pity two such friends should be long foes.

Bear witness, heaven, I have my wish forever.

And I mine.

A prize, a prize, a prize!

Forbear, forbear, it is the duke.

Your grace is welcome to a man disgraced, banished Valentine.

Sir Valentine!

Yonder is Silvia, and Silvia is mine.

Thurio, give back, or else embrace thy death.

Come not within the measure of my wrath.

Do not name Silvia thine.

If once again, Verona shall not hold thee.

Here she stands.

Take but possession of her with a touch.

I dare thee but to breathe upon my love.

Sir Valentine, I care not for her.

I hold him but a fool that will endanger his body

for a girl who loves him not.

I claim her not, and therefore she is thine.

I do applaud thy spirit, Valentine,

and find thee worthy of an empress' love.

Come, let us go.

We will include all injured jars with triumphs, mirth,

and rare solemnity.

That done, our day of marriage shall be yours.

One feast, one house, one mutual happiness.

♪ Just breathe

♪ Another soul born in this world ♪

♪ A life untouched, a smile you can't control ♪

♪ Well, she's thrilled by what she sees ♪

♪ The sun falls softly through the trees ♪

♪ She is carried away by an inner jest ♪

♪ Within her mind

♪ In my beautiful world, beautiful frame ♪

♪ To view our lives

♪ Notice the world through infant eyes ♪

♪ Beautiful dream wrapped up in white ♪

♪ Beautiful world going by ♪

♪ Step out when those things become unreal ♪

♪ Divided by a wall that you can't feel ♪

♪ When the moonbeams fill the sky ♪

♪ The eventide through blurry eyes ♪

And action.

Back to one, keep rolling.

Stopping?

♪ In my beautiful world, beautiful frame ♪

♪ To view our lives

♪ Notice the world through infant eyes ♪

♪ Beautiful dream wrapped up in white ♪

♪ Beautiful world

Tell me, do you...

I'm married.

Stop it.

Go away.

You wanna hold the roll?

We're rolling.

Am I filming?

I had something in my eyeball.

She's got something in her eyeball.

How 'bout I say action right to his face.

Let's do that.

♪ Moving through these halls of memories so clear ♪

♪ Where was the turning point ♪

♪ That left us through the years ♪♪

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